


Infamy and a Repairman

by Tkeyla



Series: My 52 Week Challenge [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tkeyla/pseuds/Tkeyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for week three of my 52 week challenge. This week’s prompt is: <i>This is a tale about infamy and a repairman.</i></p>
<p>Pure and utter nonsense. You have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infamy and a Repairman

This is a tale about infamy and a repairman  
  
The repairman came first. Along with the repairman came an epiphany. Only later did the infamy come about.  
  
It’s best to begin at the beginning when relating tales of these sorts. This particular tale begins early on a Thursday morning. Danny Williams, late of New Jersey, currently of Hawaii which he would never admit he had come to…tolerate if not enjoy, stopped by his best friend slash boss’s house as had become his custom. Steve McGarrett, formerly of the Navy and currently head of the Five-0 taskforce, did not live in any direct route from Danny’s house to the headquarters of said taskforce. But that hardly mattered. If he did not arrive at Steve’s house to take him to work, Steve would inevitably arrive at Danny’s house, which would also entail him taking an entirely circuitous route to work, to pick him up. And by _pick him up,_ Steve strictly meant that he would ensconce his oversized body in the driver’s seat of Danny’s Camaro and drive them both, at far too fast a rate of speed, to work.  
  
“Steve,” Danny called as he let himself into the house as was also his custom. He headed directly for the kitchen where he knew with complete certainty that a full pot of coffee awaited him. What also awaited him, which he had not anticipated, was Steve squatted low enough to address the plumbing underneath his kitchen sink. Upon further inspection, Danny realized that it was not the pipes to which Steve was speaking, but the rest of a man who appeared to Danny to be only a pair of shorts and slippahs.  
  
“…Saturday night is good for me,” Steve was saying.  
  
A muffled reply came but Danny was unable to distinguish the exact words. “Good morning,” he said, drawing Steve’s attention away from the hidden top half of the man under his sink and to Danny instead.  
  
“Hey Danno,” Steve said with a particular sunny smile that Danny would admit was generally reserved only for him. “Coffee’s ready.”  
  
“Good,” Danny responded, circling Steve’s still crouching body to pour himself a cup. Rather than completely full, the pot was less than half filled. “Finally decided to have an expert look at your pipes, I see,” Danny said, trying to _not_ make it obvious that he was, in fact, gloating. He felt it was his due to do a little bit of gloating as he had told Steve repeatedly that for all his skills in combat, he had clearly demonstrated he was incapable of repairing the continually dripping pipe.  
  
“Greg’s an old friend,” Steve explained before turning his focus back to under the sink. “I’m going to work. You know how to reach me if you need to.”  
  
“Roger that,” Greg’s muffled voice replied.  
  
Steve poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and headed toward the door. Danny didn’t bother to fish out the keys to his car. Steve had had his own set since the black Camaro had been delivered to Danny. Danny suspected that Steve had gotten his keys _before_ Danny got his own but could never find evidence to support that belief.  
  
As Steve roared out of his driveway, he told Danny how the dripping the night before had been intolerable, so bad that it had drowned out the sound of the ocean. That’s bad, Steve emphasized, when you can’t even hear the ocean.  
  
He may have continued to wax poetic about his beloved ocean and its mellifluously soothing rhythm but Danny was lost in his own tumultuous thoughts – about plumbers and old friends and men who wore stupidly short shorts when they were supposedly professionals. What the hell was that about? Plumbers in New Jersey knew how to dress – in uniforms that included pants and proper shoes. Identification and a truck with the name of the company with whom they were employed on the side.  
  
This man…this Greg… possessed none of these things. What he did possess was stupidly long legs that any person with any degree of visual acuity would be forced to admit were attractive. They led to a narrow waist that was overly visible due to the overly short nature of his shorts and apparently non-existent shirt. It was a waist that would know how to move, to gyrate, to seduce.  
  
Wait? What? Why did Danny _care_ if this Greg person had seduced or planned to seduce Steve who himself was endowed with beautiful features which were not to be ignored? Why did Danny know that Steve was possessed of any features that would be considered attractive? Why was he having this entire conversation in his head while Steve kept extolling the virtues of sleeping to the sounds of the ocean?  
  
Danny practically raced out of the car and up the stairs when Steve had parked as haphazardly as was his custom. Danny needed time…time to think about what he’d considered on their drive to work. Time to consider why he was thinking about Steve as anything other than his best friend.  
  
He offered a cursory greeting to Chin and Kono before securing himself in his office. Steve stopped to chat with their teammates. The shrug of his finely sculpted shoulders was no doubt in response to their question about what was up with Danny. As Danny was not inclined to share the reason for his hasty retreat into his office, Steve would have no insight to provide.  
  
What would Danny tell Steve or Kono or Chin? That he was in the middle of questioning everything he had ever thought about himself? That his entire self-image which had been firmly formed since becoming a Detective was crumbling into dust around him? Certainly his divorce from Rachel had caused a reevaluation but he would readily acknowledge to everyone _except_ Rachel that the divorce hadn’t come as a complete surprise and he bore as much culpability, if not more, than she did in the implosion of their marriage.  
  
But this – this epiphany was something entirely different. He wanted to drive back to Steve’s house and tell this Greg that he was to maintain a distance of 1000 yards from Steve at all times. He wanted to tell Steve that Greg was… was what? Not for Steve? Didn’t belong to Steve?   
  
He was just Steve’s plumber, Danny tried to tell himself. They weren’t planning to steal away in the night and elope, surely. And what if they were? Did Danny have sufficient claim, or _any_ claim, to object? To stop Steve from making what would be the biggest mistake of his life?   
  
Steve belonged to Danny. Didn’t he realize that? But then, did Danny? Before the advent of Greg the plumber, had he ever considered that what he and Steve shared was more than friendship?   
  
“Hey,” the reason for all of his frenzied mental activity said, putting a temporary halt to his near-panicked internal discussion.  
  
Danny looked up at Steve, squinting as if to get him into focus. Focus – that’s what he needed. “Who is Greg?” he asked, surprising them both.  
  
“I told you. An old friend,” Steve said, entering Danny’s office the rest of the way. “Why?”  
  
“When you say _friend_ , what exactly does that mean?” Danny asked, still squinting up at Steve.  
  
“Do you have a headache? The cousins are worried about you,” Steve said, effectively side-stepping the question Danny had posed.  
  
“I don’t have a headache. You didn’t answer my question.”  
  
“He’s a friend, Danno. Why?”  
  
“Friend,” Danny repeated slowly. “What’s Saturday night?”  
  
“What’s gotten into you?” Steve asked, looking down at him.   
  
Danny could see that Steve was worried and momentarily felt guilty for it. Although – he could use it to his advantage. He wasn’t above using every weapon available to him if this was going to be war. “Is Greg a real plumber?”  
  
“What?” Steve asked, frowning and glancing out Danny’s door as though he was considering calling in reinforcements.  
  
“He doesn’t dress like a plumber. He isn’t Hawaiian so he isn’t one of the cousins’ cousins,” Danny said, enumerating the points on his fingers.  
  
“Why are you so interested in someone who is fixing my pipes? You’re the one who said it was not a handy-man special,” Steve said.  
  
“Is fixing your pipes all he’s doing?” Danny asked. Had he lost all ability to keep any of his thoughts to himself? Had he intended to confront Steve with his own…insecurity? Because, he realized, that’s what it came down to. Was he about to lose Steve before he had him?  
  
“What?” Steve said, flummoxed by Danny’s repeated questions. “What are you going on about?”  
  
“You don’t belong to anyone else,” Danny said, getting up from behind his desk to stand toe-to-toe with Steve.  
  
“Anyone else? What?” Steve asked, looking down at Danny.  
  
Danny inhaled deeply, finding Steve’s closeness as intoxicating as always. Until now, he’d refused to admit his addiction. “You don’t belong to anyone but me,” Danny said.   
  
“I wasn’t aware I was your personal possession,” Steve said, some of his bewilderment transforming in front of Danny’s eyes to recognition.   
  
“Yes you were. Are. You belong to me, not Greg, not Catherine. To me.”  
  
“Does that mean you belong to me?” Steve asked, a glint of possessiveness in his eyes.  
  
“Don’t toy with me,” Danny said, making Steve grin at him. It was his most endearing, innocent grin, the one that often gave him away and just as often got him what he wanted.   
  
“Greg. It was Greg that brought you to this thunderous awareness?” Steve asked, still staring down at Danny.  
  
“He was the catalyst,” Danny admitted. “I’m not going to lose you before I’ve had you.”  
  
“You’ll never lose me, Danno.”  
  
“Why have we danced around it? Why have we wasted so much time?”  
  
“You had to get there. You had to be sure,” Steve told him in a soft voice. It sounded like a promise and an endearment.  
  
“You’ve been there already?”  
  
“Only since the day I met you,” Steve said. “I knew when you hit me that you were it for me.”  
  
“No,” Danny said, shaking his head in emphasis. “You couldn’t have known. You wouldn’t have squandered all this time we could have had having.”  
  
“Could have had having?” Steve laughed.  
  
“Stop,” Danny said, taking a tiny step back. “Either you have to go into your office _alone_ or we have to go to my house. Because if you stay here one more minute, this will be a day long remembered by the residents of Oahu.”  
  
“The day we did the deed in your office without closing the blinds?” Steve asked, closing the distance that Danny had opened between them. Any distance was too far.  
  
“Please,” Danny said, licking his lips. “Go away or come home with me.”  
  
Steve laughed, opening Danny’s door and looking over his shoulder. The glance was unmistakable. Danny followed.  
  
“Where does the infamy come in?” Steve asked much, much later when they could finally fire enough brain cells to talk in actual words.  
  
“You don’t think the news of us has already spread across Hawaii?” Danny said in between licking Steve’s tattoos. The skin did feel different, although he couldn’t say why. It was a question that would need much more study devoted to it to determine a satisfactory answer.  
  
“That doesn’t make us infamous. Or what we are doing…yeah, never mind,” Steve said, deciding the thinking in this instance was far overrated and if Danny ever wanted to explain how this was a tale of infamy, well, they had plenty of time to get to it…later.  



End file.
